Why They Call It the Blues
by Rose du Nuit
Summary: Short drivel of slash of the HarryDraco variety. Inspiration taken from Elton John's I Guess That's Why They Call It the Blues. Oneshot. It might get continued, but I don't know.


The sound of giggling emenated from the soon-to-be-filled conference room at the headquarters for the Order of the Phoenix. Hermione and Ron strode towards the doorway. Hearing the sounds of childish jubilation from inside, Hermione rolled her eyes and Ron sneered. They opened the door to find Harry and Draco ensconced in a tickling war.

"Oh, honestly!" Hermione exclaimed. "Can't you two grow up?"

The two young men rose from the carpeted floor and stood beside the petite woman, towering over both she and Ron. "I think we've grown up quite well, what do you think, Mr. Malfoy?" Harry asked formally.

"You know, Mr. Potter, I quite agree," Draco replied. "Even the Bean Pole is shorter than us."

Hermione sighed as Ron glowered. "I meant mentally."

"Oh, come on, 'Mione, lighten up - "

"In case you haven't noticed, Harry James Potter, we are in the middle of a war; there is no time to 'lighten up' as you put it."

"Miss Granger," Draco addressed her, still not used to the familiarity, "You can't be serious about everything. Especially Harry here. I mean, he's got, essentially, the world resting on his shoulders. He needs to relax every now and then, or he'll go mental."

"You weren't saying that in school."

"In school I was little bastard willing to be led around by my father. Things have changed."

"Not from where I sit," Ron sneered.

"Ron, you haven't even taken the time to try and see a difference," Harry defended.

"He's still just a fucking Weasel!"

"Seems to me, _Weasley_, that you're family is the closest to weasels, judging from the name, and all," Draco sneered.

Ron's wand was out and pointed at Draco in moments, giving Harry only a breaf moment to dodge in front of whatever spell was about to be cast. "Harry, move."

"No, Ron."

"Harry, move now!"

"Ron, he's my partner, I'm sworn to protect him from any danger, and that includes you."

Ron sighed and lowered his wand.

Later that night Dumbledore came to Harry's room with a special mission for him alone. He was to go to Ireland and scout for new recruits. Draco, who he had just poken to, would be doing the same in Germany.

After he left the room, Harry sighed, stroking his hair. He pulled the tie from his ponytail as he began to strip, making his way to his shower. He didn't hear the soft pop behind him, but the sharp intake of breath did catch his attention. He continued stripping, seemingly taking no notice of the person behind him. He slowly slid his shirt from his shoulders, then proceeded to drop his belt beside it. He let his trousers pool around his feet as he gracefully stepped out of them and continued to the shower, turning his head only slightly to catch the sight of his lover and assigned Auror partner, Draco Malfoy. "You coming then?" Harry asked, his voice loaded with inuendo.

Draco, strode up to Harry and pressed himself against him, entrapping his lips in a fiery kiss, "Only if you come with me," he winked in return and sauntered into Harry's shower.

Harry followed him, his eyes never leaving the blonde's luscious arse.

Draco woke in the middle of the night and found Harry's arm draped over his side, and his hand, rubbing circles on the pale skin. He turned over to find that Harry was awake as well. After receiving a sleepy kiss, he asked, "Why are you awake, love?"

"I can't miss a moment with you. Especially when we'll be apart for a while starting tomorrow."

"I know. I love you, Harry, you know that, right?"

"And I love you, Draco, more than live itself."

_finis._

Time on my hands  
Could be time spent with you  
Laughing like children  
Living like lovers  
Rolling like thunder under the covers  
And I guess that's why  
They call it the blues  
...  
But more than ever I simply love you  
More than I love life itself

Elton John simply breeds Harry/Draco ideas for me. Look forward to "Rocket Man" sometime in the future!


End file.
